Thrice woke with a start his hand darting to his dagger while the other thumbs the stopper of an invisibility potion. He did not rise but his eyes worked around, taking in his surroundings. The flaps of his sailcloth shelter flapped in a summer evening breeze, a welcome respite from the obtrusive heat out on these plains. Nothing seemed amiss, yet something woke him. Trusting in his preternatural instincts Thrice prepared for action. Like a coiled spring muscles tightened, breaths became steady and measured, his senses sharpened and his mind began calculating tactics for a hundred different scenarios.
He knew himself to be in danger, ever since he joined this group of ravagers, it was always the case not just this night. At all hours, day and night, their torturous and murderous activities continued. Waxing and waning with their seemingly collective mood. Rising at times to such a crescendo that Thrice feared they would bring justice down on them from Del Ron. Thrice had many occasions to take life and had very few scruples when doing so but the actions of this group nauseated him.
This time it was different, the hoof beats told him that a horse was speeding away and then in a flurry of dust and cloth the tent ripped away from the ground. Thrice bolted to his feet in time to see a horseman charging away with his tent in tow. As Thrice stared after the man his stomach lurched into his throat as he, all of the sudden, felt very vulnerable. He began to raise the potion vial to his lips.
Something reached out to Thrice, grabbed him and tried to hold him fast. Thrice has had many spells cast upon him but with this one Thrice felt his will falter and his feet take root, he was held. In a moment, twenty snarling Gnoll faces and no fewer than ten human ones were sneering at him.
"You've done well!" a sardonic voice from the darkness pronounced.
"It normally takes me moments to pick out a usurper, but with you my fellow, it took some very powerful divination" A large man, wearing black armor covered by a surcoat prominently displaying the symbol Erythnul speaks as he forces his way through the throng.
"You are either very skilled or very lucky, or both. Either way, both have run out. Your misstep was at Glen Falls yesterday, Seren witnessed some very unravager like behavior from you. You came face to face with the enemy and did nothing." he paced before Thrice as he spoke.
Thrice struggled to steel his will against this opposing force but whatever magics held him were unrelenting. This man must be Degarren, Thrice had heard Seren speak of him many times. Thrice was finally face to face with the mastermind. What Degarren had in mind for him Thrice could only guess, but whatever it was wasn't going to be good and he was powerless to stop him.
Degarren turned to Seren, "Put his weapons on my horse, they will make a unique addition to my alter, his heart will adorn the top of it. The one there now is nearly spent, his should last longer."
Seren spun immediately signalling two other ravagers to join him and they marched out of Thrice's periphery. Sneering Degarren turned his gaze back to Thrice. Thrice never saw the dagger, but felt its bite clear enough, could he have screamed he would have. Brilliant flashes of pain induced light flashed before his eyes as he witnessed Degarren's forehead glisten with sweat from the effort of the grisly task. Thrice could feel Degarren's hoof like fist routing inside of his ruined chest. Lightning surged throughout Thrice's entire body as Degarren found his mark. With a wet sucking sound Degarren tore is arm from Thrice's body and held aloft his prize.
Thrice's rapidly failing vision spied his still beating heart as Degarren leaned in very near, "Soon Morga's heart will replace your own and Durindana will..."
Thrice never heard the end of the sentence.
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